


The Original Timeline

by FireSoul



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 12:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7574038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireSoul/pseuds/FireSoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rip said it himself, had he never recruited Sara she would've died along with Laurel. So what EXACTLY would've happened that night had she been there that night, and what would it have to do with a crook she's never met?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Original Timeline

This was so not going according to plan.

Andy had played them, something Oliver had seen coming a mile away and a battle both Lance sisters had maybe not so wisely stayed out of. Maybe if even one of them had taken a side this wouldn't be happening. Maybe Darhk wouldn't be in possession of nearly full power, maybe he wouldn't have them all frozen thanks to his magic, and maybe he wouldn't be explaining how he had promised Quentin Lance that if he betrayed HIVE his daughters would pay the price for it.

"Nine months ago I made your daddy a promise," he said just as Oliver regained enough freedom to fire an arrow, but Darhk stopped it as if it were nothing.

"Impressive," he admitted, twirling the arrow casually in his hand. "Now where was I?" He asked rhetorically, "I want you girls to give your father a message." He instructed as he made his way for Laurel.

"No," Sara gasped, she was trying desperately with everything in her to break free of Darhk's hold but it wasn't working. So she watched helplessly as Darhk stabbed her sister with one of Ollie's arrows. "NO!" She cried out and as she did Darhk turned to her with a maniacal grin.

"Don't worry Sara, I haven't forgotten about you." He promised and as he spoke the last word through gritted teeth he jammed the arrow into her, before releasing his hold on them all and exiting the room.

Oliver rushed for Laurel, and John rushed for Sara. But it was clear that Laurel was the worse off of the two by a long shot and with Thea still unconscious in the back corner Sara insisted that John get her out, and that she would make it out.

"Sara-" Dig tried to argue.

"Get Thea!" She practically roared the order again as she clamored to her feet, "My dad will find me, I'll be ok until then." She promised and maybe it was the strength of her voice that reassured him or just the commanding look in her eye, but he nodded and followed Oliver out of the prison with Thea safely in his arms.

With her friend's gone and getting the two now weakest members of the team to safety, Sara began to limp her way out of the building whilst clutching her viciously bleeding side. It stung and hurt like hell, which she would know, and the farther she walked the less confident she became that her father or another police officer would find her before she bled out. Then, as if to make matters worse, she had somehow forgotten that the prison was in the middle of a riot during all this.

Leonard Snart, while he usually knows everything about everyone, had no idea what in the hell was going on here. All he knew was that it had only been a mere two days ago that he was dragged back into his usual cell in Iron Heights because of his latest robbery (that's the last time he puts Mick on lookout) and now there was a freaking riot going on.

The strange part was that this wasn't your typical prison riot. No this was planned and it clearly was planned well because people were actually busting out. Not wanting to miss out on all the fun Len and Mick added this trip to their list of shortest prison stays ever and were shoving themselves through the mob of prisoners trying to make it to the outside. They were in the dead center of the crowd when Len found himself tripping over something and landing on his knees, and when he turned to get up and punch the lowlife who tripped him in the face he stopped cold, no pun intended.

He had tripped over a woman.

Now that fact was odd in itself because the woman's section of the prison was far on the other side of the building. But what was even stranger was that she was dressed head to toe in white leather as opposed to a prison uniform. It was this fact that made him realize that she wasn't a prisoner; she was one of those vigilantes. He also noticed that every time she tried to push herself to her feet someone would come along and accidently step on and/or kick her back down. Studying her even closer, and getting stepped on a few times himself in the process, he noticed the growing red stain on her side obscuring her white clothes.

She had been stabbed.

She had been stabbed, she was bleeding out, and now she was being trampled to death.

With his mind made up Len grabbed her and hauled her up along with him, picking her up bridal style and instead of attempting to get through the crowd with her he stepped into the nearest open and empty cell, lying her down on the bottom bunk of the metal bed.

Once she was out of his arms she began coughing, her entire body writhing as blood forced it's way up her throat and out her mouth while she fought to take in some air. Len paid almost no mind to this however. Instead he ripped the sheets off of the top bunk and wadded them up, pressing them firmly to the woman's side in order to try and keep pressure on her wound.

"Don't…bother," she coughed out the words that sounded grabbled through all the blood that forced it's way out with them.

"You're not dead yet," Leonard remarked, he didn't look up but he was fairly certain she had rolled her eyes at him.

Then, suddenly, she started coughing harder. Her entire body was now seizing as though she were trying to sit up, and after a few seconds Leonard realized that she was. He had stupidly laid her on her back and so now that more blood was coming up her throat she was choking on it. He quickly fixed his mistake by moving to sit behind her on the bed; still not removing his hand from her injured side, and placed her head in his lap as so to elevate it.

"Calm down, you're going to be just fine." He said to her in a voice that he hoped sounded reassuring to her, but then again reassuring isn't exactly his thing.

"Not," She managed to cough out and Len sighed, well there goes all hope of that.

It should also be noted that her white outfit included a matching eye mask, which with shaking hands she reached up and removed just as her coughing began to cease. This act revealed to Leonard that her pale face, most likely this way due to massive blood loss, was peppered with light freckles. Not to mention that it also allowed him a clearer view of her piercing blue eyes before they shifted to stare down at her still trembling hands.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes still not meeting his. "For moving me, I wasn't getting anywhere." She croaked; her voice was getting weaker Len noticed.

"Don't mention it," he replied, with one hand still pressed stubbornly but most likely futilely against her side he still had one free hand. He took this one and clamped it firmly onto her shoulder as though to hold her in place, as though the physical anchor would keep her with the world longer.

"You could've gotten out," she mused and he sighed,

"Another day perhaps," he replied, a small smirk starting to creep onto his face as he realized Mick must be running around the city like a dog chasing his tail looking for him, he'd be snatched back up in no time. But Len didn't dare show the smirk, the last thing this strange woman needed was to think he was laughing at her.

"You leave now, you might… you might just make it." She shuddered through the words, talking was becoming more difficult for her.

"No thanks, at this point the cops are swarming the city and I'll get caught." That was a bull-faced lie; he'd never get caught. But he also wouldn't tell that to this vigilante, even though it would ordinarily be something to brag about to a hero. "Speaking of the police," he began a new thought, one that was much more hopeful and optimistic than any thought he'd had about anything since he allowed Mick to be lookout on their last heist. "They'll be coming through here soon, to contain what's left of the riot. They'll be able to get you to a hospital." He promised and at the sight of her weak but still evident smile he thought that maybe she actually believed his words.

"Sara," she all but whispered seemingly out of nowhere. When Leonard stared down at her in curiosity he found her staring back, her stunning blue eyes the only part of her body that still seemed bright with life. "My name is Sara," she explained, her voice momentarily growing strong once again. "I figure if you're going to stay here until I die, you should at least know my name." She continued and it was then that he not only did he know she hadn't believed him about the police being able to get her to a hospital in time, but there was no other lie that he could tell her. Still, he pressed slightly harder on her side with his hand, for whatever reason he was desperate to stop the blood from flowing out of her.

"Leonard," he introduced himself and she flashed him another weak but bright smile.

"Leonard." She repeated, slowly lowering her hands until they met the one that he refused to remove from her hip. Her fingers curled lightly around his palm, and when they did not only did his expression flicker into fear but hers as well.

"Your hand…" She trailed off, though this confused Leonard even more. He looked down to see what the problem was, only to realize that in the midst of trying to put pressure on her wound the blood had soaked through the sheets, leaving his hand sticky and stained with red.

He decided not to tell her that it was no big deal, or that it would wash off later. Instead he simply smiled down at her, allowing her to smile back.

"Thank you," she nearly choked, her voice was so weak now that Len needed to strain to hear it.

"You already said that," he reminded her, worried that the massive blood loss was fogging her mind and causing her to forget.

"I know," she assured him with just the slightest nod of her head. She began coughing again before she could continue, the blood once again coming out in spurts and a few clots, Len wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign.

Regardless, he removed his hand from her shoulder and used it to gently move some strands of stray blonde hair out of her face so that she wouldn't stain them with blood.

"For not letting me die alone," she hoarsely finished her previous thought, she had to; because the gesture meant more to Sara than Leonard would ever know.

He smiled down at her and placed his hand back on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb in comforting circles on her skin.

They sat in silence after that, Len continuing to trace invisible patterns with his thumb onto her soft but cold skin until she closed her eyes, her shallow breath ceasing not long after. He shuddered once she was gone, wishing he could've been right about the police and how they would come in time. But they hadn't, and even if they had odds are Sara never would've made it to the hospital. She would've died alone in the back of the ambulance, and that thought only upset him more.

Anyway, after only a few seconds had passed Leonard finally removed his bloody hand from her side and used it to rummage through her utility belt. He found what he was looking for almost right away, but then again the pocket was specifically designed to fit a cell phone. He didn't want to call anyone, not Mick and not Lisa; no all he wanted the phone for was its clock.

Time of death; 11:59.


End file.
